I Actually Like This Silence
by schatzi.mhmm
Summary: It starts almost two months since Will Cash has been locked away & Annabel is going strong with Owen. Owen finally plucks up the courage one a day they spend together to tell her what he's been feeling. Continues on with their lives together.
1. Interruptions

"Hey." Annabel breezed, walking into my room like it was no big thing. I smiled as she plopped down on the bed next to me, snuggling into my pillow and closing her eyes.

I moved my laptop off my lap and onto my nightstand.

"Hey." I chuckled, smoothing back her hair.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked quietly, yawning with her eyes still closed. I curled my fingers around her lock of utterly perfect blonde hair, inhaling the comforting smell of her. Like peppermints and flowers.

"Preparing for my first show back. I have had tons of stuff to play that you wouldn't." I growled playfully, ducking down to kiss her forehead.

"I told you I wasn't playing anything that didn't involve any words." She reminded me, tapping my arm with her index finger.

"I know, I know." I murmured, not wanting to get into another spirited discussion with her again. She looked so beautiful, the light from my open window splashing her golden face with the perfect amount of afternoon sunshine.

"I'm glad I finally get to see you more." She whispered, opening her eyes to look at me. Today was the first day my sentence was up for punching Will Cash. It's hard to believe that was only a month and a half ago? It seemed like another lifetime.

At noon when mom came home from work to go to a doctor's appointment with Mallory, I was officially a free man.

"I am too. So glad, you have no idea." I said truthfully, stroking her cheek with my fingertips. She seemed to catch up on my mood in an instant, or maybe she had already been there.

She shifted, propping herself up on her elbow until her face was even with mine. My fingers, still in twined in her hair, guided her face closer until her lips were parallel to mine. I never got tired of kissing Annabel. Never. The feeling of her warm, soft and always welcoming lips was unlike anything I've ever experienced. The taste of iced coffee was on her tongue.

The only sounds were our ragged, uneven breathing, the pounding of our hearts and the caress of our lips moving in perfect synchronization. And for once, this bubble of calm was almost silent, but it wasn't so freaking loud.

I knew her boundary wall would start to rise in a few minutes. I knew she was still uncomfortable with physical relationships after the trauma of what she went through, so it surprised me a little when her body rolled closer to him. When her lips became more urgent and her tiny hands grasped tighter against my neck.

I was all too happy to reciprocate.

We rolled so that I was above her and her kissing became more desperate. Like her cry was as strong as mine. Our hands worked together to slowly unbutton the front of my plaid shirt.

My head was a frenzy of thoughts and with every touch it felt like she was sending another one of my cells into haywire. After a few minutes I was shirtless, but I was cautious about hers.

She was raped for Pete's sake, how can she be ready for this right now? But it seemed like she was. The way she kissed me, the way she moved, it wasn't like she was desperate. It didn't feel like she was bored and needed sex.

In my mind, it was like she needed me to protect her. She needed to know that I wasn't going anywhere and that I was going to love her, in every way shape or form. And I was willing to give her that lesson.

She tugged her plain white t-shirt over her head for her, making my decision for me. Completely ending my current train of thought. I already knew my girlfriend had a perfect body. You could tell by looking at her.

But I was not prepared for the utter Goddess tone of her features. The curve of her muscles, the toned features of her flat stomach. And her white lacey bra was distracting enough in itself.

We rolled back around again and she giggled, pressing her warm bodied flesh against mine, tangling our jeaned legs together.

I heard her.

"Throw my hands up their playing my song, butterflies fly away." Mallory was singing to herself. My stomach dropped to my knees. I heard her walking down the hardwood floor of the hallway. Stopping in front of my room.

"Owen! Moms on the phone, she wants to talk to you!" She called, rattling my doorknob.

Mallory let herself in without knocking. My damn door didn't lock. Annabel disappeared off me in a flash, curling up in a ball underneath my comforter.

"Oh. _Oh_." She breathed, eyes widened as she took in the scene. Annabel's half naked body one second to her jean clad legs sticking out under my comforter. Me, shirtless, with red and puffy lips.

Mallory was fourteen now, birthday last month. She was fourteen, not stupid.

"I'm sorry. I really am, Mom is on the phone." She said nervously, blushing scarlett. I'm really surprised she didn't say anything giddy or giggled. Annabel moaned with humiliation lightly and I smiled.

"I'm just going to go bleach my eyes now." Mallory smiled slightly, practically bolting out the door. I put the phone to my ear and tried to get my mom to end the phone call as quickly as possibly.

"Bell, come out." I whispered, tickling the sides of the lump under my comforter. She giggled slightly, pulling back the blanket. Her face was horrified, her blue eyes wide with discomfort.

"I'm about to die." She moaned, covering her face in her hands.

"Don't do that." I teased, grasping her fingers to pull them away from her pretty face. I brought her hand to my mouth, kissing her index finger.

"Your sister is never going to be able to look me in the eye ever again." She groaned again, leaning her forehead against my bicep.

"Mallory will get over it. Hey, if it becomes a problem, we'll just tell her you were practicing for modeling for a lingerie company." I suggested, grazing my finger across the strap of her bra. "I was helping."

She laughed and closed her eyes. I could tell that the spark of the moment was out, long gone. So, I pulled her against my chest. She sighed happily, resting her cheek right above my heart beat.

"That could work." She offered.

"It's a deal, partner." I chuckled, rubbing her arm slowly. She turned her face to look at me.

"What should we do today?" she asked a few moments later.

"I'm not sure," I lied. I had one suggestion but after getting interrupted by my sister, she wasn't going to fall for that idea.

"Come on. I want to show you something." She said fiercely. She grinned and tossed me my shirt, climbing off my bed.

"What?" I asked.

"You'll see."


	2. It's Like Heaven

"I honestly think your mother dropped you on your head when you were a small child." I murmured, blind underneath Annabel's hand.

"R&R" she growled playfully.

"Fine." I grumbled. "Annabel. Sweetie. What I meant was, will you please tell me where you're taking me?" I said, in my good-little-boy voice.

"No." she said simply. I could practically hear the smile in her words.

I bit down on my lip, mad at her sudden lack of confidence. She giggled at something, before finally removing her hands from my eyes. I stumbled forward, unable to stand straight after having to bend to her height for so long.

The gentle light obscured my vision, until I focused on the shelves. The rows and rows of shelves, covering every inch of the floor space of this tiny room. On the shelves were records.

Row and rows, neatly organized into bins. The colorful array of records sent my mind into an overload. Tour posters and stickers acted like a neat collage of wallpaper on the thin walls of the store.

"Wow." I breathed, gazing at the sight.

"You like it?" Annabel smiled. I looked down at her, squeezing my fingers around hers.

"What's not to like?" I demanded. "It's like heaven."

"I thought you would say that." Her answering smile distracted me.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"This is Ballad." She said significantly. To my surprise, she just strolled around the counter with the cash register, sitting on a stool behind it.

"What is Ballad?" I said slowly.

"It's a record store. My dad went to college with the owner, Jerry. He's like a member of the family. Any who, he is going outta town for a few days, and wanted to know if I could watch the shop for him. I figured you would want to help me."

"You figured right." I breathed.

"And I have another surprise." She beamed.

"What is that?" I asked, tugging out a record from a shelf. It was from a band I never heard of, which was shocking in itself.

"I don't know what you'll think of this, but it's just an idea." She warned.

"Belle, what did you do?" I asked with a devilish grin, walking forward to stand at the counter in front of her. The golden sun from the afternoon filtered in through the window, bringing a magic glow to her blond hair, like it brought it too life.

"Well, I was talking to Jerry. He said he would pay me to stay here for the week he's in Chicago . And I told him that I have a friend who is really into music. I showed him the playlists you made me and a copy of your radio show. And he said that he can give you a job here if you want. I put in a good word for you."

If it was possible for someone to fall in love with someone all over again, it would have just happened to me. Annabel's hair was curled around the shelve of her tie-dye t-shirt. I grabbed a lock, twisting it in my fingers.

"A job." I said quietly.

"A job. I figured it was better then delivering pizzas." She teased, poking my cheek with her index finger.

"It sure as hell is." I nodded towards the rows of records.

"Good." She smiled.

"I have two questions though." I admitted, twisting her fingers with mine. She probably assumed I was asking about hours or pay.

"Shoot."

"Well. In your story, you told him your 'friend' was really into music." I reminded her, putting quotes in the air around friend.

"Yeah, well. If I had said boyfriend, it might have sounded a tad biased." She admitted with a grin.

"A tad."

"Yeah. I couldn't tell him I'm dating his employee." She giggled.

"Okay. That makes sense. But I have one more question." I told her. She hesitated, waiting for me to continue. "Well it's more of a request."

"A request?"

"Yeah, well. I don't really know how to run this place. Like the requirements or the system it upholds. I'm sure there is a system."

"There is a system." She nodded seriously.

"Well, I don't know the standards of the system. It seems like you do. So I was thinking that you could stay with me, the first couple days on the job. Showing me the ropes. And what I was thinking was that, maybe, you know, you just never left."

"You want me to work here too?" she smiled.

"Yeah. I do." I admitted, looking down at our interlocked fingers.

"Well. For you, I guess I could pull a few strings." She said quietly. When I looked up, her beautiful face was twisted up with amusement.

"Good." I whispered, tucking a finger under her chin to bring her lips to mine again. She giggled quietly a moment later.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." She reminded me.

"Can I ask you _two _questions?" I insisted.

"You just did!" she shot back forcefully.

"Smartass." I breathed quietly and she laughed gently to herself.

"Ask away." She motioned with her hands for me to carry on.

"Why are you doing all of this for me?" I demanded, my voice suddenly soft. There was no music playing in the record store, which just seemed odd to me. But for some reason, whenever I was with Annabel, the silence didn't seem so freaking loud. It wasn't like a fight when I needed something to shut them up. With Annabel, it was comforting. Like it brought hope.

"To thank you." I looked up at her quizzically and she continued. "I mean, to thank you for being so good to me Owen. I don't know how I would have gotten through the last couple weeks with you." She murmured, ducking her head with emotion.

My finger brought her chin back up to look at me.

"Don't you dare thank me."


	3. I love you

"For someone so tiny, you sure do eat like a truck driver." I teased, eyeing her consumption of sweet and sour chicken.

"Well, excuse me." She said sarcastically. "I didn't know eating was against the law." She purposefully brought her chop stix to her lips, raising an eyebrow to protest. I just shook my head in mock distaste, watching her from the corner of my eye.

"Speaking of eating. . . . how is Whitney doing?" I asked slowly, like I was testing the waters. I can't even imagine what it would be like if Mallory went through something like that. And eating disorder. Whitney always felt like a forbidden topic between us, but I decided that it was time to break down whatever barriers we still had in our way.

"She's actually really doing well. She got a job, serving coffee at a diner, but she loves it. The place has charisma, she calls it. She's –"Annabel broke off suddenly, glancing at her legs lounging across my lap. "She's healthy." She finally finished, smiling slightly.

"That's good. You must be really proud of her." I nodded slowly, feeling guilty about bringing it up. Annabel didn't seem discomforted. She smiled slightly to herself, playing lightly with her chopstick in the origami container in her lap. Her beauty of overwhelming, like the simplest gesture she made could falter my heartbeat.

"You know, you never fail to take my breath away." I mumbled, memorizing the staining of her jeaned legs that were crossed on my lap. I tickled the bottom of her socked feet a little, her Converse sitting by the counter.

Ballad was actually a really beautiful place. And I'm not just saying that because Annabel is here, even though she could spruce a place up perfectly. It was long after closing, the door locked and the lights off. A simple strand of white Christmas lights were already wrapped around the store, the only thing setting the mood for our romantic Chinese take-out dinner.

We explored the back room and found a blanket from the seventies. I sat back against the counter, completely full. Annabel was lying across me, propped up against the closest shelf. The glowing lights framed her face so goldenly.

"Can I ask you a question?" She whispered into the silence, which just felt numb on the edges of our bubble. For once, not bringing me to my knees. "And don't say 'you just did'." She warned quietly. I grinned as she caught the words before they bubbled to my tongue.

"Ask me anything." I told her truthfully.

She hesitated, wringing her fingers around slightly. Stalling. Classic Annabel. I opened y mouth to question her further, but she shook her head, causing me to stop mid-breath.

"Have you ever been in love before?" she whispered practically inaudible. This was probably one time when I almost didn't want to tell the truth. Okay, that itself is not true. I want to tell her, everything I've been feeling from the first time I talked to her.

I wanted to do this smoothly, later. But maybe her mind was on the same wavelength as mine already. It's possible between the two of us, since it's happened before.

"Not before I met you." I whispered back. Her gaze flew up to meet me eyes almost immediately, an expression somewhere between shocked and relieved crossed her face.

"Really?" she mouthed, not being able to speak the words. Her eyes looked glossy, like emotional moisture was in progression. She smiled slightly.

"Yes." I said quietly. "I love you Annabel. I've been in love with you for a while." I admitted, not feeling ashamed at all.

"I love you too Owen." She whispered, her voice clouded with happiness. Her answering smile was brilliant, like a mixture between a toothpaste commercial and the simplistic yet breathtaking picture I took of her at Mallory's slumber party.

"Good." I chuckled, tugging on her thigh which was still casually slung across my lap to tug her closer. She giggled as she settled until she straddled my lap.

"Let me ask you another question." She begged as I started to bring my lips to hers. I groaned lightly, making a show of groaning and leaning back against the counter with a plunk. She rolled her eyes at my dramatics but continued. "When did you realize? That you love me, I mean."

It took me a moment to answer, trying to get my barricks. "You always tell me the truth." She reminded me, poking me in the chest with her finger. My own fingers cascaded up and down her back like I was creating a spider web.

"I know. I'm just thinking about stuff." I muttered.

"Placeholder." She whispered under my earlobe. I shivered lightly against my will. She seemed to catch up on my reaction, sending a line of kisses down from my right temple, down my cheek, down my neck to the rim of my collar and back up. She made this circuit twice before I answered.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" I demanded.

"I'm trying to seduce an answer out of you." She giggled against my neck, pulling back to look at me with taunting blue eyes. "Is is working?"

"Better then you could imagine." I whispered. She laughed lightly with pleasure, pulling back like trying to keep me from self-combusting.

"Answer the damn question Owen." She growled playfully.

"I feel in love with you when I sat along that wall, listening to you tell me your thoughts. No other girl would just sit and argue music with me. No other girl has the heart you have Annabel. Everyone at school is so cold and frozen, determined to be perfect. For a long time I thought you were." I admitted slowly, watching her reaction. Her hands warmed the back of my neck.

"You thought?" she asked.

"Yeah, but I realized that through the façade you put up, you were genuine. You were warm and sweet. Beautiful inside and out. And I realized you weren't perfect, but that's what I love about you. That you don't pretend to be around me." I told her. She was quiet and idly I wondered if I had said too much.

"God, I love you so much." She whispered urgently, pulling my face to meet hers in a desperate whisper. I responded with pleasure, forcing her closer to me, like distance was a burning sin.


	4. Slow Dancing From The Fifties

"Best birthday ever." Annabel questioned quietly against my chest. We were bundled up in the blanket on the floor, intertwined as much as possible.

"When I was thirteen." I said slowly, recapping the memory. "My dad surprised me with a road trip up to New York City. My birthday is in December, so we went ice skating at the Rockefeller Center, walked around. My mom took me and Mallory up to the top of the Empire State building. I loved the way it looked up there. Like you're on top of the world, everyone is below you like tiny specks. Cars look the size of ants. It was fun because we just spent the day together. That was the last time we were really a family."

"Do you miss your dad?" she whispered against my plaid shirt.

"I don't know. He wasn't much of the father-of-the-year type. I guess, I just miss him being around. Us all being together. Now, it's like we all live separate lives but we migrate to the same house every night." I told her truthfully.

"I know the feeling." She mumbled. Sometimes it makes my heart hurt when I see how sad Annabel can be. It reminded me of a song-lyric by Wakey! Wakey! I had never heard of them before, but Annabel played it on the show when she was covering for me. The song was called Dance So Good.

_I remember when you lost your head/ Sometimes I wonder how you stay so sad when you're so beautiful. _

Inspiration struck me like a shot of water being squirted from one of those plastic clown flowers. I sat up from the floor, still cradling her body against mine. She began to question me, but I shushed her.

I ran over, searching through the records in the bins until I found one that might work. It was gentle jazz music, the kind your grandparents would slow dance two when you were little. For some reason though, it seemed to fit. Maybe me and Annabel had that good old-fashioned, never going out of style, timeless love.

She looked at me like she was about to call the guys with butterfly nets to come and get me. I stood her up, taking both of her hands in mine. I lifted our twined fingers up, curling her arm around her head and making her turn.

She giggled lightly, wrapping one arm around my neck and the other rested lightly on my shoulder. She touch was light, like a butterfly. Her fingers felt so small. I wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her into the circle of my arms.

I got a rush of wanting to keep her here, in my arms forever. I know she's safe here, with me. I can protect her and make her happy, but them most important thing is that she knows that.

The way she was looking at me gave me the impression that she did.

"What makes you happy?" I asked against the skin of her forehead. I kissed it lightly, closing my eyes perfectly content. We twirled lightly underneath the twinkling Christmas lights. The jazz music filtered through the record player on the counter perfectly, adding a hint of romance.

"Well, lot's of things." She mumbled, pulling back to look at me.

"And the award for best use of a placeholder goes to . . ." I said in a dramatic announcer voice. She used the hand behind my neck to playfully smack the back of my head with the force of a drifting feather. I smiled, but nodded for her to continue.

"Well there are the simple ones." She said slowly, looking past my shoulder out to the dark street, illuminated by streetlamps. "Like a really good cup of coffee." She mumbled, smiling a bit to herself.

"Keep going." I breathed, wondering if that was even audible.

"Or a thunderstorm. When my car is nice and clean after going through 123SUDS." She caught my eye now and smiled as the memory engulfed us. I smoothed her hair back across her shoulder so I could get a better view of that pretty face.

"Well your roof doesn't have a hole in it" I growled playfully.

"That is true." She agreed with a nod. She grew quiet for a moment, pausing for awhile before continuing. "But then there are more complicated things that make me happy."

"Like what?" I asked, even though I pretty much know what she was going to say.

"Like when my mom is having a good day, it makes me happy. Or when my dad fails miserably at cooking us dinner. When I used to get upset, Kirsten would come into my room in the middle of the day in her PJ's and would sit with me in bed for a 'Daytime Sister Sleepover'" she smiled.

"It makes me happy to see Whitney smile. But there are things like peace, family, friends, strength, love," she eyed me specifically. "Those are all things that couldn't make me happier. And being here with you, doesn't even put it into words." She whispered, twirling her fingers in the hair at the top of my neck.

"I know exactly what you mean." I grinned slightly, kissing her hair.

"Ohmygod." She gasped a moment later, causing me to open my eyes out of the serenity. I blinked, stunned at her sudden change of mood. "It's after midnight. My dad is going to kill me." She groaned, flying out of my arms. The clock read 12:46

In two minutes, we managed to clean up all the Chinese food, put back all of the CD's we had mismatched, and close up the store before jumping into her car. Her fingers tapped anxiously against the steering wheel as we stopped for a red light.

She pulled up to my house on the quiet street, the streetlamps flickering to break the darkness. I could see my mom's shadow sitting on the couch in front of the T.V

"Are you going to be in trouble?" she muttered, eyeing the same scene as me.

"Nah." I breezed. "If I tell her you got me a good job, she won't care." She glanced down the darkened street, so I used her distraction to turn her head back to me, cradling her small face between my hands. Just the difference of her smooth, pearl skin and my thick, callused hands was astonishing.

"I love you Annabel Greene. I will see you tomorrow beautiful." I whispered, kissing her fiercely one last time. I didn't let her say anything, just got out of her car and started up the walk.

"Hey stranger." Her voice called under the gentle whirl of the automatic window being rolled down. "I love you too." She smiled, pulling away from the curb. I practically danced up the sidewalk, pounding up the porch in one leap.

"You're late." My mother said sternly, not taking her eyes off of Chelsea Lately as I closed the front door behind me.

"I know, I know. But before you get mad, let me explain." I pleaded, holding both hands in front of me in mock surrender.

"I finally give you a chance off of punishment and you come home at midnight?" She demanded angrily.

"A) it is Saturday." I reminded her, watching Tobey curl around my legs. Tobey was the cat my grandma bought my parents as an anniversary present right before the divorce. I reached down to scratch the top of his head.

"Where were you?" she asked, silencing the T.V to mute. Bad sign.

"I was with Annabel . . . " I started to say.

"Shocker." Mom breathed the interruption. I smiled in spite of myself but continued.

"But listen. She got me a job." I beamed.

"A job?"

"A job." I proclaimed, feeling déjà vu from my convo with Annabel this morning. "A real after school, actually salary earning job. At a music store her dad's friend owns. She can work there too." I grinned goofily, my mom smiled slightly.

"Well -. . . " She sighed, loosing the steam of battle.

"Yeah. She took me over there earlier and she was just showing me how to work and control everything. We ordered Chinese food and we lost track of time. I'm sorry." I said truthfully.

"Okay. But try to get home the day you leave next time okay?" she nudged.

"I promise." I vowed, holding three fingers up in a scout's honor. I waved slightly, heading towards the stairs.

"Hey hon. Come back here for a sec, I've been wanting to talk to you about something." She called, stopping me in the door frame.

"What's up?"

"I was just thinking. You and Annabel seem to be getting really serious." She noted, fluffing a pillow slightly like she was afraid to look me in the eye.

"Yeah. I love her Mom." I grinned. She caught my eye and smiled slightly.

"I can see that. But I just want you to be careful honey. With everything that she's been through lately, she must be really hurting."

"She really is." I breathed. "But if she needs me, I'll help her. No matter what." I said sternly, hearing the truth behind my own words.

"I know honey. But just be cautious. She might not be ready for a serious relationship right now." Anger boiled slightly in my blood, but I closed my eyes, focusing on the help she was trying to give me.

"She is mom. I know she is, she told me and I know it's true. I appreciate the help, but I know what's going on, okay?" I said, my tone snippy.

"Okay." She said, holding her hands in front of her. "I'm sorry. It's just that girl can't be doing too good right now."

"She isn't. But I'm helping her." I insisted.

"I know honey. And I know she loves you too, just be careful. Don't hurt her." She whispered, flickering her eyes between me and the same door Dad walked out of with his suitcase.

"That would just hurt me more." I told her, taking my time as I drifted up the staircase.


	5. It's Like A Giant Caution Cone

I was sleepy but not tired, if that makes sense. I felt a sudden rush of exhaustion flood me like a river and I leaned my head back against the cement wall behind me, letting my eyelids win the war against closing.

"We're you up late watching the Brady Bunch again?" a familiar voice teased over the gentle acoustic guitar playing in my one earphone. I felt her slide down the wall next to me but I only reached a hand towards her, groping the air until her hand found mine.

"So . . . tired." I breathed, not opening my eyes.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" she asked gently.

"Like two." I told her truthfully.

"Owen, you honestly think you could run on two hours of sleep?" she demanded. I said nothing, just groaned loudly. I let my eye lids flutter open lightly, mainly just because it's been twenty four hours since I'd seen her face and I was going into withdrawal.

She smiled when as locked gazes and I dropped my face to kiss her lightly. She didn't say anything, just patted her jeaned lap lightly. I grinned, slouching down off the wall and laying down with my back in the damp grass. I rested my head in her lap, looking up at her.

"Just sleep, it's okay. I'll wake you when the periods over." She told me, plucking one bud out of my ear and tucking it in her own. Her fingers began to methodically run deeply through my hair and I was asleep within minutes.

I didn't have enough time to dream so I just let the sleep work through my system for the hour. I was vaguely conscious when I felt Annabel's lips kiss my forehead.

"Wake up Owen." She whispered lightly into my ear. I knew I couldn't be late to class again, so I opened my eyes hesitantly. Her face was inches from mine; her Mediterranean blue eyes were distracting enough.

"Rolly wants to have a Final Destination movie marathon tonight" she told me as I sat up, rubbing my eyes groggily. People started getting up, throwing out garbage and filing back inside the school.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"I've been texting him. He's in 'philosophy and future' right now." She informed me with a smile, waving her phone in the air slightly.

"Sounds fascinating." I moaned, but I smiled a little. Any guy would be thrilled to see his girl and his best friend, becoming friends. I made me happy to see that Rolly had accepted Annabel as a important part of my life and I loved Annabel more for wanting to be close with my best friend, since he was important to me. Aw, this frikking circle of love.

"I know, I would shoot myself." Annabel teased, as I brought myself to the standing position. She held her hands out in front of her like a toddler, an innocent expression on her face. I grabbed both her hands with a smile, hoisting her up.

"Don't commit suicide, I'd miss you too much." I told her, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. It was still a tad awkward at school, watching the groups of filtering students back inside the brick building. I didn't care but it bothered her a little. But my relationship with my girlfriend is nobody's business but mine and hers. End of story.

"Good." She grinned.

"So, I'll meet you at your car later?" I suggested, as we walked hand-in-hand back to school. I moved my arm to around her shoulder when we passed Sophie, trying to block her few with my body. It still made Annabel rigged to see her ex-best-friend, but Clarke, who had taken to sitting with us at lunch now but had gone to the library for a paper today, had once again filled her old position.

"Okay and Rol and Clarke are going to swing by my place at like six after we get off from work for the marathon since my parents are out of town."

This idea intrigued me. I've never really been to the inside of the mysterious glass house, since I've been on probation for the past two months. I know what the house looks like, just from dropping off or picking Annabel up, but I've always wondered what it would be like to go inside. Would you feel that ominous feel of being watched, or would it feel like a comfortable home?

"Cool. I'll see you later." I said once we were outside of her Global Policies class. My trig class was down the hall so I know I can make it in time.

"Okay. Love you." She smiled, going up on her tip-toes to kiss my lips again before disappearing into the open door. It's been about two weeks since the whole 'I love you' reveal, but every time she says it, I still get a shot of sensation thrill through my body. I walked into class, taking my seat with a dorky smile on my face.

_"Don't think or judge." She whispered. "Just listen." _

_ "Okay." I nodded, rolling in my chair so I was closer to her. _

_ "You probably didn't hear about Emily Shuster and . . . Will Cash." Her voice shook lightly, like she was either scared or unsure. Maybe both. She shifted from one foot to the other, wringing her hands lightly in front of her. _

_ I shook my head. _

_ "Well Will- . . used to be Sophie's boyfriend. Well he is, he is her boyfriend. And a long time ago when me and Sophie were friends, I used to spend a lot of time with him, you know, thrown together by Sophie." I remember her telling me that the entire school thought they did it and that's why Sophie hated her. Ugh. I don't want to hear about this. _

_ But something in her eyes told me this wasn't the whole story. It was the fake one, not the one lined with truth like she was about to tell me. _

_ "Emily was a friend I'd known from modeling, and I brought her to a party at the end of last year. You know, I used to party a lot." Her voice shook and she dropped her head, like she was embarrassed to tell me this. _

_ "Yeah, well I used to punch a lot." I told her easily. She laughed once, hard and frustrated, but she looked up at me and I could see tears in her eyes. _

_ "I know. But anyways, Sophie and Will got into another fight. They always fought." Her voice cracked painfully. I could see the tears making their way down her porcelain cheeks. "Emily didn't know anyone since she was just a sophomore, so I was showing her around. We went into the game room with some of my guy friends from school year." _

_ Ugh. Didn't want to hear about this either. _

_ "Nick was drunk, so drunk .I was taking care of him, so I went to get him some water because he passed out in the hallway upstairs. When I came back up, he had disappeared. I heard a noise coming from the closest bedroom, so I went in, assuming Nick crashed." _

_ Her voice was shaking so terribly now, her hands and chin quivering ferociously. She blinked back more tears. Her head tilted back, to block the tears from leaking. _

_ "But it wasn't Nick." She whimpered, using a hand to push her hair back. I got a good look at her now. She wasn't made up and glamorous like she usually is. Her hair was unbrushed and a mess of strands around her face. Her face however, was red and blotchy, stained with tears against her tired and worn out looking face. She was in plaid pants and a sweatshirt. She came here right out of bed, to explain to me. _

_ "Remember how I told you," she started to say slowly looking at the helm of the sleeves of her sweatshirt, "The entire school thinks I'm a slut because Sophie walked in on me apparently having sex with Will Cash?" she asked, putting air quotes around "apparently."_

_ "Yeah." I breathed as the awful truth began to dawn on me. _

_ "That's not what happened." She breathed back, her voice choked with tears. _

_ "What did happen Annabel?" I cooed, trying to get her to say the words. _

_ "He raped me." She breathed, breaking into another sob. I barely even heard what she said, before the pure hatrage boiled through me like an injection, stinging my heart but igniting me fingers like they were on fire. _

_ "He grabbed me and through me on the floor." She said, her voice practically inaudible but she was finally saying the words. "I tried to fight him, but he was so much bigger and stronger than me. He wouldn't stop." Annabel choked, dropping her head as the sobs broke. _

_ "I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't." She bawled, her hands covered in her sleeves cradled her face. Her shoulders shook violently. _

_ Horror and anger flooded me like a dam, unable to escape pulsing through my veins. In the back of my mind, I tried to think of everything that I had learned at Anger Management courses, but it was no use. My fingers curled underneath my palm, forming a fist. _

_ I love her. I can't let anyone hurt her. It hurt me that this beautiful and amazing girl was standing in front of me, withering away in this pain that she had stored within herself for so long. _

_ "Sophie walked in and Will played it like I seduced him or something. She didn't get mad at him and she wouldn't let me explain, just jumping towards her own conclusions. She told the whole school I was a slut and pretty much banished from her life, without letting me tell her what happened. I mean, it was pretty incriminating, but it's not what she thought._

_ "But the thing is, he just did the same thing to Emily. God." She sighed, like she wasn't talking to me anymore. Her voice sounded frustrated. "She told somebody." She growled. "She was smart, she told somebody. They had him arrested and they're putting him on trial for rape, and then Emily found me in the library the other day, going on and on about how she figured it out after what happened with Sophie and I and she gave me the card to this lady." She was speed-talking now, out of agitation. I sat there, dumbfounded as she rushed her words. _

_ "Her lawyer and she wants me to testify against him or something. But no one knows, and I can't tell my family and I just hate everything that's happened and I hate feeling so helpless and vulnerable. I've just felt so lonely lately." She whispered, looking pointedly at me. _

_ "Sophie only talked to me if she was throwing some kind of insult. And the day I first talked to you, when I got into the fight with her on the quad? Will was in his car. I saw him and he tried to talk to me. I got so scared and freaked out, I like ran away. But Sophie saw me with him and she went ballistic._

_ "And you know, I just wish I had something stable to hold onto. My home life is. . . a joke. It's ridiculous. Whitney is the middle of recovery and she's so curled up in herself all the time. She never let's anyone in and she has to write these history's about her eating disorders. Like year by year, and I've just noticed how she seems so much more open lately. Like she isn't going to let this become who is she. And I guess I can admire that because that's all I've done all year. I've let this become who I am" _

_ I listened to everything. Not commenting because I knew she needed to get this all out. She just needed me to listen, so I would. _

_ "I never really had my sisters to hold onto. We were all so busy, with modeling or worrying about Whitney or Mom. We never had a chance to be together as a real family. And then Kirsten moved away, then Whitney followed and I was the center of attention. I didn't want that, I never have._

_ "Kirsten started taking these classes in New York, like a videography class. And you could always count on Kirsten to be open and bubbly and give you her whole life story. Talking was her favorite hobby. But she sent me this video she made and it was so . . . .not Kirsten. Or at least the Kirsten I know. It was raw and naked and real and it showed me a side of her I never knew existed. The funny thing is though that it was about when Kirsten and Whitney went bike-riding on my ninth birthday. Whitney fell off and broke her arm and Kirsten drove her home on her handle bars. Kirsten's movie was about a section of Whitney's history she showed me." _

_ Her fingers shook violently. I'd never heard her talk about her family this way. She sounded so real, so deep in the way she described them. Like she was admiring their mistakes and their individuality. She took a deep breath and began again._

_ "I've been so wrapped up in this sherade of trying to show everyone I was okay, trying to prove that everything was normal, it just became so . . . abnormal. Like nothing I said sounded true. Every since I met you, I've been trying to be more honest." She caught my eyes now, smiling slightly. "But I realized that every time I spoke to a member of my family, I was lying. I wasn't telling them what was really truly hurting me. I'm a liar, like you said." _

_ "Annabel . . . ." I breathed but she cut me off. _

_ "But the thing is I feel strangely okay with that. With everything that's happened, with my mom's depression or Whitney's recovery, I felt like I've been protecting them. So I agreed to do another Kopf's commercial, even though I really don't want to, just to keep my mom happy. To give her something to focus on. _

_ "But the other night, I was watching the History Channel with my dad. And he was talking about how we can't run from the past. It's not something that can't be ignored or shifted because it already happened. But without understanding things that have happened, we can't begin to know what will happen, or how we'll comprehend things in the future. _

_ "And I was listening to that thing last night." She said, slightly frustrated and sounded slightly amused as she pointed to the broken CD in the player. "And I was thinking about how you always say silence is so frikking loud. But I listened to it but I thought you did it on purpose!" She noticed my confused expression, laughed gently and kept going. "I thought you made it blank as some kind of stupid metaphor. And I was listening to it, and all this stuff just came flooding back, like how my dad said I couldn't ignore it. And I just. . . . I just needed to tell you." Her voice dropped again, down to its vulnerable and hurting tone that stabbed my heart like a serrated knife. _

_ "I wasn't trying to push you away." She breathed, staring at me through tear-clouded eyes, which had moved from terrified to pleading within a matter of moments. "Owen you have to believe me, I wasn't. I was trying to hold onto you for dear life, but I was scared. And I found out about Emily at the fashion show, and I wanted to be with you at Bendo but it all just became too much. . . " Her voice cut off with a painful sob. _

_ "Annabel . . ." I started to say, but once again she held up a hand, interrupting. _

_ "I'm sorry. I didn't want things to get all messed up between us. It's just that I was so scared and I didn't know what to do, and the idea of you scared me. I was becoming too dependent on you and it freaked me out. I don't want to lose somebody else, but it seemed like I did that in the process. It's all just becoming too much. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." She whispered. _

_ "Don't you dare apologize for that." I growled lightly, scooted closer to her in my wheelie chair. "I'm sorry."I said quietly. My head was reeking with all of this information she had told me, those two words sounded silly and insignificant. "I'm sorry this happened to you."_

_ But those words seemed to suffice. Her shoulders crumpled like my words had given her the confidence to quiet trying to be so brave. Like my words. . .comforted her. She surrendered to her pain. _

_ I scooped her up, holding her against my chest. She curled up on my lap and just cried. She cried and cried and I said nothing. Mostly because I didn't know what to say, like all of my words seemed stupid and unappealing. _

_ She let me hold her, her hot breath against the skin of my neck, now wet with her tears. She felt so small and breakable in my lap, like some small movement could shatter her. _

_ It seemed like eons later when the two cheerful ass realtors for Herbal Prescription came up to the window, knocking lightly. The both looked at a broken Annabel with pity. I held up a hand and they nodded sympathetically. _

_ She had already begun to relax within my embrace. Her tears had stopped awhile ago and now she was just letting me hold onto. I tried to keep the pieces of this fractured girl together. _


	6. Scoop of Vanilla

"To the right!" Clarke demanded, waving her hands around like she was trying to land an airplane. Rolly and I shifted over, gently resting the black, squishy couch in the exact spot that Clarke had instructed.

This was the twelfth time we've moved the couch by a quarter of an inch.

Rolly plopped down, sighing heavily and closing his eyes contently. She looked pleased. Clarke sat down next to him and he wrapped an arm tightly around her. Annabel breezed through the doorway, looking more like a Greek goddess then anyone had a right to.

"I found the good coffee cart. Outside of the astronomy wing." She informed us, resting down a carry-carton holding three coffee cups. I took one gladly and kissed the top of her head.

"Make a mental note of that." Rolly said in deep tone. I sat down on Annabel's naked and bare mattress, letting my head thunk against her wall behind me. She curled up next to me and rested her head on my chest as Rolly and Clarke left for a walk.

"You guys got the bigger room." I complained, taking in the bare walls not yet decorated with Annabel and Clarke's style. Their dorm room was in a building just a moments walk from ours, Student Village.

Or as the girl's like to call it, "Stud Ville." Of course.

There were two beds, lined parallel to themselves on either wall. Two dressers were propped up at the feet, like a foot board. The closet was already neatly lined with hanging clothes. Annabel's were colorful and different patterned. Clarke's clothes were more simplistic, all looking similar.

The room was covered in boxes and suitcases, yet it already felt like home. Why? Because of the beautiful and vivacious girl sitting next to me. She observed the same scene I did.

"Welcome to college, Owen Armstrong." She said in a distant voice.

"Thanks Annabel Greene." I responded in the same unenthusiastic manner. My mind drifted into a correction before I could stop it, Annabel _Armstrong. _Someday, she will share my name.

"This year went by really fast." She said in a shocked voice.

"Tell me about it." Someone started blasting a perky teenage pop star's song from down the hall, followed by the shriek of some excited girls. I rolled my eyes and Annabel laughed, slapping my chest lightly. I held her to me tighter, like I was trying to block the noise out.

"Do you realize that it's a year tomorrow that we met?" She asked, rolling her head along my shirt to look at me better.

"I will never, ever be able to forget that day for the rest of my life." I told her truthfully.

All these memories flooded my brain like they were being realized from the horse gate at the Kentucky Derby.

The first time I saw her, the first time we talked. Our first kiss, our epic fight. The way her face looked when she told me her _whole _story. The way we spent the year, learning to love each other. Our "I love you's".

Prom, with its horrendous music and bumping humps and humping bumps. I wasn't the biggest fan of whole tuxedo thing but seeing Annabel in that dress; sparkly and the prettiest shade of deep purple. Her long blonde hair was curly and she looked like an angel.

Graduation, sitting in the horribly hot football field in an itchy cap and a gown that didn't quite fit properly. Underneath the boiling sun, I watched Annabel march across that stage, shaking the principal's hand in her National Honor Society robe and flipping her tassel aside happily.

"We have this big empty dorm room, all to ourselves." I whispered devilishly in her ear. She giggled and twisted around so she straddled my lap.

"What should we do?" she asked in a fake and giddy voice.

"No idea." I started to whisper, but her mouth already cut off the last of my witty comeback. Her lips were urgent as they talked and talked with mine. I love this wordless conversation. She pressed herself closer to me, melting against my chest.

I clutched at her desperately, holding her tightly to me. We somehow managed to end up in the horizontal position, her body lying parallel with mine. The itchy surface of the bare mattress scratched at the back of my neck.

She seemed to sense things because we rolled over, so that her body was pressed under mine. I was wafted with the sweet scent of her, like soap and peppermint.

"Owen." She whispered a few moments later against my chest. I leaned up so I could look at her face.

I knew that she couldn't go this far, no matter what amount of craving and gnawing need clung to the inside of me.

"Annabel." I breathed back. Her blue eyes locked deeply with mine.

"Owen, I want to. You know I do, with my whole heart. But I just want to do it right. I am trying to imagine myself as a born again virgin, but its hard when you're kissing me like that. I know I sound like a cornball, but I want our first time to be special." Her breath was still choppy and let out a gasp.

"Wherever we are, as long as we're together, it will be special." I reminded her, smoothing out the small and smooth baby hair's that graced her cheeks.

"I know. I want to believe that Owen, but it's really not, with my Truth Squad CD jammed into my ass." She laughed, tugging the clear jewel case from underneath her back. I took it from her fingers and flung it behind me. It landed with a gentle rumble on the beige rug Annabel set down to ignore the cold and white concrete floor.

She kept giggling as I leaned down to plant a kiss at the hollow base of her throat. But I didn't want to pressure her, so I rolled off from the top of her.

"Owen, I love you." She said in a hard voice. When I didn't meet her eyes, she grasped my face tightly between her two marvelously small hands. "You know how much I love. And when I'm ready, I can't wait to be able to be with you in the most romantic and loving way possible."

"Will you tell me?" I asked her, trying to sound as patient as possible.

"You'll be the first to know." She vowed with a brilliant smile.

"What should we do now?" I said, my voice easily identifying the impatient and terrible voice. I sounded pathetically needy. Her grin got wider.

"How about we go get ice cream and explore the campus?" She suggested. "My treat."

"Annabel." I said in a disagreeing tone. I shook my head in mock distaste. "I'm the boyfriend. Ever since the dawn of time, it was the male half of the ying-yang relationship that was suppose to take care of his girl." I sounded like I was arguing with her but in truth; I was just giving her a hard time. It saved the money in my wallet.

"Honey." She said the word in a tone as sweet as the real thing. "You're not getting any tonight. The least I can do is buy you a scoop of vanilla."


	7. Pa Pa PaPoker night

BOO. SORRY FOR MY WRITER'S BLOCK. IF YOU LIKE, REVIEW PLEASE AND I'll TRY TO KEEP GOING FOR CHAPTER ... 8, damn.

"Damn it." Rolly grumbled as Annabel slid his poker chips across the table to her dramatically. She laughed victoriously as she high-fived me.

"She's good man, admit it." I cooed, eyeing the cards in front of me.

Poker night had become a staple for the four of us. We bought pizza and drank Fanta. We all sat around the small round table in Rolly and I's dorm room, playing poker.

The radio played lightly in the background. Whenever a bad or obnoxious song came on, Annabel reached over and flipped the radio to a different station since her back was practically shoved into my dresser in our cramped dorm.

"I can bet her in every other card game, but when we play with money. . ." Clarke started muttering to herself before she gasped. "Have you been hustling me since we were eleven?"

"No!" Annabel shouted. "Poker is just my best game. Blame Rolly. He's just really bad, so it makes me better. You give great motivation." She teased, winking at my best friend.

Annabel's legs were stretched underneath the table across from me, resting on my lap. I reached down and tickled her socked foot. She squealed and squirmed, banging her leg on the table in the process.

Her perfect tower of poker chips that she stacked in victory cascaded to the hardwood table. She groaned and rubbed her knee.

"I'm sorry." I said with a smile.

"No, you're not." She shot back, trying to fight the grin on her face. She jutted her lip out like Mallory.

"You look like my sister. She has had too much of an influence on you." I informed her, tapping my foot lightly with hers. She didn't budge, so I took her lead and crossed my ankles onto her lap. She tried tickling my feet, but it didn't work on me. I wasn't as squirmish. She just allowed my socked feet to chill on her lap.

"Come on Rolly, you in or out?" Annabel asked, deflecting tension and changing the subject.

"I don't know." He said hesitantly, staring at his cards. "It's a lot of money."

"Hon, its seventy-five cents." Clarke informed him, nodding at his three shiny quarters.

"It is?" He demanded. "Shit, I fold."

He placed his cards down on the table in defeat. Everyone who knew Rolly knew that Rolly was always broke. He rarely had a single dollar bill to his name, but when he did, all his money went towards food. Me and Annabel bought music, Rolly ran right to the gas station at the slightest amount of income.

"Come on, Yellow." I teased. "Show me what you got."

"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours." Annabel said devilishly, holding the cards to her sweat shirted chest and cocking an eyebrow.

"Kinky." Rolly breathed and Clarke snorted. "We're still talking about cards, right?"

"That depends." Clarke giggled. "Owen. Annabel. Do you want to be talking about cards?"

"Clarke, just show your hand." Annabel laughed, winking at me behind one of those Meditterrian blue eyes of hers.

"Read 'em and weep." Clarke fired off. "I got a lesbian wedding. Two queens."

"Well, hold your horses there doll face." I informed her, slapping down my cards. "I have the numbers tattooed on Rolly's head. Six, Six, Six."

Annabel burst out laughing, covering her mouth since she had been in the process of sipping from her orange Fanta can. I chuckled as she used the sleeves of my sweatshirt that she was wearing to hide her face.

We usually didn't play for money, playing with chips just for fun. Just things like quarters to do laundry, Oreos; things that can be found in a college student dorm room. I reached for the collective pile, complete with a pack of gum, twelve dollars in change, a bag of peanut M&M's and a coupon for a free foot long from Subway.

Annabel's hand stopped me.

"Owen, babe, what's something that's not crooky, curved or bendy?" She asked sweetly, innocent as a lamb. When she bit her lip, I knew she was keeping something from me.

"Straight?" I questioned.

"Exactly!" Annabel shouted, slapping down her cards with a smack of her palms We all groaned loudly as she cheered, sliding everything to her already impressive pile.

"I hate you Bel." Rolly exclaimed, crossing his arms across his chest and moping.

"Not true. Never true." She chimed.

"Okay, last round." Clarke mumbled, shuffling the cards. "Best of five cards. No limits."

"Oh, I fold." Rolly said almost immediately, chewing on a string of licorice. We all stopped to look at him. "What?" He demanded self-consciously.

"You don't have cards yet." Annabel pointed out.

"I know, but a very wise gambler once told me—"He started to say.

"Rolly, if you sing Kenny Roger's song one more time, I will punch you in the nose." I warned, shuffling the cards in front of me.

"Owen, R&R." Annabel said sweetly, flirting her impossibly long lashes at me.

"Rolly, please do not sing that song again." I matched her tone, my eyes never leaving hers. She smiled warmly at me and my heart gave a not so gentle thump. It boggles my mind that I could be with her for over a year and every time she looks at me, I catch my breath.

"Okay." Rolly mumbles under his breath before singing lightly, "You got to know when to hold them and know when to fold them."

"ROLLY!" Clarke, Annabel and I shouted in unison.

"Okay, okay." He mumbled an apology.

Well, after four hours, two boxes of pizza and twelve bucks later, Annabel stood up to leave. The giant, ancient clock tower in the heart of campus chimed eleven o'clock. Tomorrow was Sunday, thank the Lord.

"Clarke, you ready?"She wandered, pulling off my sweatshirt and gliding into her winter jacket.

"You didn't tell them?" Clarke whispered the demand to Rolly, whose pizza crust dangled from his mouth in horror.

"Didn't tell us what?" I said hesitantly.

"I'm sleeping over tonight. Rolly was supposed to clear it with the two of you weeks ago. He said he would kick Owen out gently, but I can't believe you didn't tell them!" Clarke growled, smacking him on the back of the head.

Rolly and Clarke were a bit more open with each other, having lots of awkward teenage sex. Great, in my room.

"Oh." Was all my girlfriend said, flushing lightly.

"Sorry, we totally can forget it tonight. I can't believe he forgot to tell you." Clarke flustered and for the first time, I noticed a small backpack sitting on Rolly's bed.

"No!" Rolly said, all too quickly. Clarke glared at him and he crawled back into silence.

"Where were you expecting me to crash?" I demanded, a tad furious at the idea of being kicked out of my own dorm room. My mother pays room and board, damn it.

"Well, we were thinking we could switch roommates." Rolly said innocently. "Clarke could stay here and Owen, you could crash with Annabel." He offered.

I locked eyes with my girlfriend for a brief second, both of us intrigued by the idea.

"It's really okay. I'm sorry. I should have told you guys. We can do it again some other time." Clarke apologized, looking down as if she was embarrassed. She quickly started collecting her things.

"No, it's okay. You can come stay with me." Annabel's voice said suddenly, like the light bulb brightened in her mind. I cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Really?" I murmured.

"Yes." She nodded. "As long as you behave." She warned.

"I will." I laughed, drawing an halo above my head.

Ten minutes later, my beautiful girlfriend and I were walking hand-in-hand across the snow covered campus of our university to her co-ed dorm room. I know nothing will happen tonight, but there was still that heavy pressuring silence that filtered through us.

She plopped down on her bed right away as I headed to the boys bathroom down the hall to change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. When I came back she was wearing a tank top and plaid, flannel pants.

"I'm sorry if this is awkward for you. I don't have to stay here if you are uncomfortable." I told her, leaning against her dresser to look at her.

"It's okay Owen." She giggled lightly, scooting over in her bed and folding back the covers to make room for me. I scooted into bed next to her. She curled up against my chest and clapped twice, turning the light out.

"Clap on." I breathed. In the pitch black darkness, all I could feel was the beating of her heart through my t-shirt.

"Tell me you love me." She whispered, her voice blending into the dark silence.

"I love you Annabel." I murmured.

"Good." She said, sounding obviously pleased. I rolled my eyes, but she couldn't see it.

"Do you realize that we are platonically sleeping together?" I teased, running a hand along the side of her stomach.

"Yes, I do realize that. I wish I could say that it was more, but—"

"It's okay honey. I understand." I shushed her, rocking her gently in my arms. She hummed lightly, content as I was.

"I'll make you a deal. When you have my last name, we'll sleep together." I offered. I felt her face rise up on my chest and I caught her face in the light from her alarm clock .

"When I have your last name?" She said.

"Oh yeah, we'll get married one day. Did I forget to tell you that?" I joked in a light.

"I think you forgot to mention it. It must have slipped your mind." One of those things that I love about Annabel is that she can fire back the jokes and keep me entertained.

"Sorry bout that."

"You're forgiven." She said as I hugged her tighter to my chest.

"It's okay. It will be a cute story to tell the grandkids." I offer, but suck in a breath right away. Had I said something to over the top? Too dramatic or headstrong"

To my pleasure and relief, I felt her perfect body rock gently with a small laughter in my arms. "Slow your roll, hot shot. How did we get kids already?"

And with that, we began to play house.

"Well, Annabel, when a man and a women love each other . . ." I started to say but she giggled and slapped my chest lightly.

"Do you want kids?" She whispered so quietly, I almost didn't catch it.

"Yeah, I think so. You'll be a fantastic mommy." I complimented her truthfully, like always. She nuzzled her face deeper into my shoulder, her cheeks turning up in a smile.

"You'll be a good dad." I scoffed at her statement. "No, serious Owen. I see the way you take care of Mallory. You will be a fantastic dad yourself someday." I blushed in the darkness. Thank the Lord she couldn't see it.

"We'll find out eventually." I simply said.

"I always wanted to name my daughter after my grandmother." She whispered.

"What's that?"

"Avery." She said simply. I loved the name already, as if Annabel was already round with our child. Man, we're a piece of work. We haven't even done it, and we're discussing kids. But even in the quiet of her dorm room, these silent whispers of our future weren't loud silence.

"I like that." I told her.

"What we're your grandmother's names?" She asked.

"Leah and McKenzie." I remembered Leah vaguely. She died when I was seven. My Grammie Kenzie was the one I would rather name my daughter after, she was the most glorifiable woman I've ever met.

"Those are beautiful" Annabel whispered, warm against my skin.

"We'll draw straws when it comes time, okay?" I teased.

We decided on Jacob or Dean for our son as we drifted off to an entangled and peaceful sleep.


	8. Letters and Phone Calls and Cuddles OhMy

"Bel?" I called, knocking on the door to her dorm room. The front was plastered with pictures of her and Clarke. I grimaced when I found some of myself.

"Come in." Her voice mumbled feebly from inside. My heart thumped loud with anxiety. The chill February breeze still coated my skin but I sighed in relief at her warm room. She sat on her bed, surrounded by her school books with a piece of paper lying limply in her lap.

"Hey pretty girl." I said, depositing my bag on the floor. She lifted her legs straight up in the air so I could sit down on her bed before she laid her legs back down on my lap. My heart immediately soared when I could hear her radio on softly in the background; I had been such an influence on her.

But my good mood vanished quickly by the look on my love's face. Her blonde hair was in tangles, like she hadn't brushed it in a while. Her face looked ashen, a layer of green underneath the surface.

"Annabel? What's wrong?" I demanded, taking her face quickly in my hands .I know it's superficial to notice such things, when something was clearly bothering her, but her beauty, even with her face contorted with pain was absolutely breathtaking. Her eyes the deepest color blue, her skin so creamy and velvety smooth under the touch of my rough and callused hands.

I had the most beautiful girl in the world. One who knew me inside and out, whose gentle heart and soul unmasked all of my exteriors. And whose life was connected to mine so easily and simply. Her pain was my pain. Our hearts were connected by a single strand. Cut one and you cut both.

"Annabel?" I repeated when she didn't answer me, just staring at me with a strange mix of horror and disbelief.

"I . . . ." She breathed but did not continue.

"Annabel, talk to me. Don't shut me out again." I begged, bringing her face closer to mine until our noses touched.

" I got a letter. From Will." She answered, looking down at her lap.

_Dear Annabel, _it read.

_I've written so many drafts of this letter, you could not imagine. I have gone through so much paper, trying to find the right words, and the right amount of words to say to you. _

_ I've been thinking a lot in here, that's what prison is supposed to do, change you. I've been doing so much thinking, it's like my brain would explode. I've been going to counseling here, in the jail and my therapist thought this letter would be a good idea. _

_ I don't know how I will be able to apologize to you Annabel. I know that nothing I saw will ever take back the things I did to you, the pain I have put you through. I look back to that party and I kick myself over and over again. I always had a small crush on you, to be honest. You are such a beautiful girl, it was hard to think abbot Sophie or the fact you were her best friend. I let alcohol and those stupid emotions get the best of me that night. I wanted you and sex. That's all. I can't even think of how I let myself lose control like that. _

_ I am going to write a similar letter to Emily, God knows I need her forgiveness just as much as I need yours, but I think that I need your forgiveness more. I know I made your life a living hell, and for that I will not be able to function properly ever again. Your friends turned their backs on you, Sophie especially. I was lying, you were lying. I hate myself for it. Part of me wishes that you had told the truth immediately, but I will never understand why you didn't go to the police immediately. _

_ I am so sorry Annabel. Sorry for hurting you. For physically violating you. I'm sorry for making you isolated from your life and for making the people who care about you think any less highly of you. You don't deserve that. You didn't deserve any of it. I hope you're happy. I hope your life is full of good things, things you deserve. I hear through the grape-vine that you're dating that guy Owen who punched me. The day before my trial, I know why he did it and I don't think I care. I definitely deserved it. _

_ I just hope one day, you won't hate me anymore. _

_ Will Cash. _

"Wow." I breathed, unable to think of something smart or even proper English to respond with.

"I know." She mumbled back. We sat in a mutual silence for a few moments, just both trying to comprehend his words. She suddenly reached up to take my hands from my lap. She held them in the air before ducking her head underneath me arms to lay her head on my stomach. I chuckled lightly before lowering my arms and tightening them around her.

"I don't know how quickly I'll be able to forgive him." She mumbled against my shirt, right above my belly button.

"No one wants you to do it quickly, Annabel. I want you to forgive him, when you're ready, just so you can move on with your life." I told her, stroking her hair out.

"I guess that makes sense." She agreed quietly.

"Of course it does." I said arrogantly and she laughed gently. I hugged her closer to me.

Her hands moved from my chest to my thigh, running a finger of the denim of my jeans. My senses were immediately heightened. Her hands moved from my leg upwards towards my pocket. She patted it and came up empty.

"Where's your iPod?" She asked quietly. I held back a sigh of disappointment before reaching into my back pocket to pull it out. For my birthday, Annabel had bought me a new pair of headphones. They were sturdy, not the flimsy ten buck ones that always break.

I plucked one into her ear and one into mine before handing it to her. She scrolled for a few moments, switching from artists to songs to playlists. I knew she loved the playlist all about her the best so I wasn't surprised when she clicked on it.

The song that came up was one from the summer after graduation. It was a little slow for my taste but the guy's voice was strong enough. The lyrics weren't half bad either. About being the one people that would be the only one to love a girl. Story of my life.

I want to tell her. About the call I got today, but my nerves were tightening and it felt like I couldn't breathe. Annabel, of course, completely oblivious for a few minutes while scrolling immediately could sense that something was bothering me.

"What's on your mind Armstrong?" She said quickly, lowering the volume so she could hear me. I was quiet for a moment, thinking of how to respond before she wiggled her way out of my arms and propped herself up on an elbow to look me in the eye.

"I got a call today." I muttered, unable to lie to her. "From my dad."

"Whoa." She mumbled, taken off guard.

"Tell me about it." I groaned, closing my eyes a bit.

"Wow. Um … what'd he say? What does he want?" She asked, genuinely concerned.

"He's getting married." I told her, my voice cold and it didn't sound like I'd be giving congratulations anytime soon.

"Owen." Annabel breathed, closing her eyes. She was the only one that could feel my pain with me, she'd understand.

"To Keira. That's chick he cheated on my mom with." I said harshly.

"I want to say I'm sorry but that won't help much, will it?" She said truthfully, reaching up to run her fingers through my hair. I sighed and closed my eyes at her touch.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to stand up on that freaking alter and be a best man. Of years of being ignored and having him abandon us. .. " My voice cracked painfully but I couldn't open my eyes to look at her. "For that tramp. He was married."

She said nothing, just kept tugging her fingers through my curls. My throat felt constricted and thick, no longer allowing me to speak.

"I know your dad hurt you. But Owen, are you going to stay mad at him forever?" She kissed my neck softly.

"I don't know what I want to do." I told her truthfully. "Will you distract me?"

"Sure, how?" She asked, running her finger along my jaw line.

"Can we have a really long, really good make out session?" I asked, dropping my chin to unleash my puppy dog eyes on her. She laughed but, bless her, brought her lips to mine with a small nod.


	9. Kudos To Cocktail Sauces and Road Trips

I fidgeted with the collar of my shirt as I climbed out of Annabel's car. I felt like a monkey in my "nice dress slacks and respectable shirt", as my mother had put it. None of us were talking. Mallory and her friend Tiffany stood next to Annabel on the curb, all of us staring up at the big house, alive in the early spring darkness with lights and laughter. We could see people in the inside walking around with cheese and crackers with a glass of red wine. Socializing.

I walked up behind my girlfriend, wrapping both arms around her petite frame, until my arms wrapped comfortingly around her neck and I pressed myself against her, nuzzling into her neck.

"You guys can do this." She said warmly, leaning back into my embrace. I pulled back a bit to see her grip my sisters hand tighter. My stomach was full of butterflies. But not butterflies exactly; more like those devil gigantic bats/dinosaurs that fight Godzilla.

This will be the first time I've seen my dad since our fight. Our fight about him being unfaithful, the divorce. The one that severed our relationship. I got a card with fifty bucks on my birthday and a two hundred dollar check on Christmas. Mallory will go get ice cream with him occasionally, but I usually can't look the scum-bag in the face when I've seen him at gathered family functions.

"The faster we go in, the faster we can come out," Annabel reminded me.

"Let's just get this over with." Mallory fumbled, tugging on Tiffany's hand until the two girl made their way up the spacious walkway up the front steps and into the open door.

"I don't want to see him and pretend to be happy for him." I told Annabel truthfully, the second my younger sister was out of earshot.

"I know babe. But he's trying here. He probably misses you and Mal. He is putting in an effort here. I know you can't be happy for him, but you can be happy that your mom is happy now." She nudged me, reminding me of the fact my mother was dating again. Yuck.

"Let's go. Please do most of the talking. I'll just let him be dazzled by you." I told her, leaning back with a devilish grin to get a good look at her. When I first asked her accompany me to this stupid engagement party, Annabel declined. She insisted it was a family affair. That's why I retaliated, she had to come. Mallory loved her to death, always running to her with problems. Annabel would sit and talk with her whenever she needed, already like a big sister. My mom _adored_ Annabel. At first she was skeptical of our relationship. I can see why, I mean I'm not the most socialized guy. I have a group of small friends and I'm okay with that. They are the pillars I need to stand. After the um... incident, my circle of friends became more restricted. But when I came home with the beautiful, outgoing, model of a blonde Annabel Greene.

Woooooo, was mom impressed.

Annabel's creamy blonde hair was in beachy waves down her back, the front half pulled back behind her tiny head. She wore a pretty and very sexy but respectable purple dress that swung above her knees. Her heels brought her closer to my height. She tugged her black men's but feminine blazer around her as the March air swarmed around us. "Stop." She giggled into a blush and tugged me towards the house.

I gulped as we stepped through the threshold, immediately overwhelmed. Fancy businessmen and their prissy wives were pressed around the dimmly lit house, chatting wildly. Soft jazz music played in the backround. I had a moment of flashback to dancing with Annabel in Ballad, holding her so close I could feel her pulse against me, totally in love. I felt a rushing sense of anger towards my father.

He doesn't deserve to feel love. Not with _her_.

I scanned the room for Mallory and Tiffany, curious to where they had disappeared to. I gripped Annabel's hand tighter, anxiety flooding me.

"Come on. Let's explore." Annabel murmured encouragingly, as we headed towards the bright kitchen. Adults continued to gather around the watering hole ...aka...bar. I glanced up and caught the sight of my friend Wes Baker, my friend from Myer's school working as the bartender. He was standing next to a blonde girl with an elastic around her wrist, wearing an apron with a tray tucked under her arm. She reminded me of Annabel, her poised and pretty sature.

I made a mental note to go say hi to him if we're here long. Annabel led us into the kitchen where Tiffany and Mallory were leaning against the kitchen island, looking out of place and awkward, a bottle of water in each of their hands.

"Hey girlies." Annabel said happily, relieved to have found them, like myself.

"Have to seen him?" I asked my sister, glancing down at her as she nervously tugged at her yellow dress.

"No." She responded, hardly audible. Annabel spoke to Tiffany in quiet murmurs. I can imagine they both felt a wee bit out of the loop. They didn't know what my dad looked like, what he was like. Only me or Mal could point him out of this crowd. My fingers clenched around hers when I eyed the sign hanging across the cabinets.

_**"Congratulations Lucas and Cynthia!"**_

Congratulations, my ass. I'm sure everyone who was sending the happy couple a blender or a toaster wouldn't feel all warm and fuzzy if they knew the whore was a home-wrecker. Ruined a twenty year marriage, broke up a family. Took a father away from two kids.

Before I had the chance to really bulid up steam, a woman walked into the door, carrying two empty champagne flutes. She nodded politely with a smile at a couple standing by the back door, not seeming to have noticed our little posey.

I knew in my gut that was her.

She had dark brown curly hair with fake looking red highlights that reached her shoulders. She was wearing a blue cockail dress and had bangles clanking against her wrists as she set the glasses next to the washing machine, popping an appetizer into her mouth as she opened the fridge. She was pretty, sure. Young. She could only be about thirty one, at the most.

Annabel was definately prettier, and I am not just saying that because I'm biased. Anger curled through my veins as I spotted the diamond ring sparkling on her finger.

"Ow, Owen. Cool it." Annabel said suddenly, tugging at our interlocked hands. I realized horrifcally that my hand must be crushing hers. I immediately pulled away, mortified that I had hurt her.

"I'm sorry babe." I muttered, but she simply smiled at me. Stoic as ever.

"It's okay. Just take a deep breath macho-man. We don't want you transforming into a big green guy whose shirt rips off." She smiled at me, reminding me playfully of my nickname "The Hulk". I grinned down at her before she twined her arm with mine and went up on her tip-toes to whisper in my ear, "Not that I would mind if you were shirtless."

I raised an eyebrow at her devlishly, grinning at her like the Cheshire Cat. She rarely ever gets flirty with me around my sister or in public, and I had to say I was soaking it up. I knew she was trying to get me to relax, but I was putty in her hands. She pressed herself up next to me reassuringly, calming me having her body so close.

The woman at the fridge, Cynthia, turned around and caught sight of us. "Oh hello."

She said, her voice awfully trilly and sounding slightly fake. "Hi." Annabel answered for all four of us, jumping to fill the awkward silence when no one answered her.

"I'm Cynthia." She replied with a smile of pure white and shiny teeth. She came around to our side of the island. She looked me up and down with a quizzical look before adding, "You must be Owen." I gritted my teeth together. Annabel squeezed me arm, which was still looped with hers before I answered.

"Yes, I am."

"Oh!" The woman was clearly flustered. She waved her hand about, smiling wildly. "You are the spitting image of Lucas. It's so great to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you. This must be Mallory." She said, eyeing my sister who looked an awful lot like me and my dad. Mallory simply nodded, clearly uncomfortable.

"Oh this is just fabulous. I've been dying to meet you two. Lucas just gushes about you." Fake. Definately fake. She turned and looked at Annabel with an almost envious glance. "_And you are_?" She asked, looking at Tiffany also.

"I'm Annabel Greene." She said gracefully holding out her hand to shake with Cynthia. "I'm Owen's girlfriend."

I smiled in spite of myself.

"Oh hi honey." Cynthia responded, her damn bracelets clanking as they shook hands.

"This is my best friend Tiffany." Mallory told her quietly, gesturing to Tiff. Cynthia smiled at her warmly.

"Did you four just get here?" She questioned. Once again, Annabel became spokesperson. All of her modeling must have taught her how to be comfortable being uncomfortable. She barely hesitated in responded, coming to my rescue.

"Just a few minutes ago." She nodded.

"Well, I should go and fetch your father. He'll be so happy you are here." She grinned widely. Before Annabel could open her mouth to give a group answer, the kitchen door swung open and in walked my father. His hair line had reseeded a bit, something I'm sure mom would find great amusement in. He had on a dark grey expensive looking suit, with a navy shirt and black tie. He looked older, tanner, cheaper. More like the filthy piece of shit he is.

"Cynthia, Richmond wants to know if ..." He trailed off when he saw us. "Oh, hey! You're here!" Lucas Armstrong exclaimed, setting down his brandy and coming closer to us. He had his arms gestured open, like he expected a group hug. Niether my sister or I moved an inch.

"Look at you guys. You've gotten so big. Gosh Mal, such a pretty girl, you're getting so big. Stop growing kid! Come give your old man a hug." Mallory cringed internally, something Annabel and I both caught, before she moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist quickly. She pulled back before he could really hug her back. His grin faltered for a moment before he turned towards us.

"Owen." He said, in a business-like tone, sticking out his hand. Annabel loosened her grip in my fingers, untwining us so my right hand was free. I didn't like being separated from her. Our hands met in a firm, solid grip.

I might have accidentally on purpose flexed and squeezed to hard. He pulled back, shaking out his hands before he chuckled and said "My son, you've got a firm grip kid."

Cynthia laughed gently and I just raised an eyebrow, not putting much effort into this conversation as I quickly caught Bel's hand again. His pale blue eyes lit up when he saw Annabel.

"And who is this beautiful young woman?" Annabel plastered on a fake smile, one that would be believable to the common eye but after we've been dating for so long, it all came naturally. That wasn't her real, "I'm truely happy smile". It was the one she put on as a mask, blocking her real emotions.

"This is Annabel. My girlfriend." I told him, resisting the urge to feel smug. She stuck her hand out to shake it with my father.

"Well, it is a pleasure to make your acquantince Annabel." He responded politely, catching my eye and nodding appreciatively.

"The pleasure is all mine." She smiled slightly. Oh, modeling definately pimped her first impression meter. "You have a lovely home."

"Oh well thank you. It's filled to the brim." Cynthia gestured towards the living room. "Would you like a something to eat? Are you kids hungry? There is plenty of food inside the dining room."

"Yes, yes. Come on kids. Join the party." My father exclaimed, ushering us towards the archway leading into the dining room. The long wooden table was covered with food, but I didn't feel one ounce of hunger. We all grabbed a small red plate and grabbed random pieces of weird puffs with creepy looking cocktail sauces.

Yeah, like any of us are eating this shit. Annabel caught my eye and stuck her tongue out playfully. I smiled slightly, shaking my head at her antics. She nudged my sister playfully, shaking out her arms in a symbolic gesture to tell Mallory she was as stiff as a statue.

"So, Owen. How is college life treating you?" My dad asked, popping some kind of funky roll into his mouth.

"It's pretty good." I nodded, not committing to a full response.

"What's your major?" He urged.

"Business." I answered boringly. An awkward silence hung around the six of us as people discussed animatedly around us.

"So." Cynthia broke the ice first, sounding desperate to start up conversation. "Owen, Annabel. How did you guys meet?"

"We went to high school together. We've been dating since then." Annabel answered, smiling up at me and squeezing my hand cutely.

"Oh, that's adorable. Now, do you go to the same university?" Cynthia asked, jumping at the chance to discuss our love life.

"Oh yes. I'm studying vetrinary science."Annabel told her in her golden voice.

"So you would like to be a vetrinarian? That's fabulous. Do you love animals?" Cynthia questioned. No shit, sherlock. Who asked a vet student if they like animals? Annabel just nodded politely, but I could have sworn I saw her roll her eyes when Cynthia and my dad both looked away at a passing friend on their way to the kitchen.

"And how do you like school Annabel?" My dad asked. What's with the intense questioning? I feel like they are going to shove a lamp in my face and accuse me of murder.

"I love it. It's hard and the classes are a challenge but I love college life." She smiled her model smile at them, making both of them lose their train of thought probably at her beauty.

"So Mal, how's school kiddo?" Lucas asked my sister suddenly.

"It's okay. Boring." Mallory shrugged, avoiding their eyes.

"Isn't it your first year of high school?" Cynthia demanded.

"Well yeah." Mallory simply said. Any other chance, Mallory would chat away about how much she loves high school and she would absolutely gush about how "fantabulous" it was. But not here, under uncomfortable circumstances with two people we both pretty much hate.

"Well, do you kids want a tour? I'm sure it could get boring wit a bunch of stuffy adults in here." Cynthia teased, poking my dad in the arm. Ugh.

Insert hatrage vomit here.

They lead us through a family and gigantic living room, with pale yellow walls and high valuted ceilings. All of the chairs had been pushed to one wall where some of my father's colleagues from the publishing company that I reconized sat, discussing football loudly. We all came to a gentle stop in front of a grant mantel with a black stone fireplace.

"It looks much more relaxed and cozy in here without so many people." Cythnia told us, gesturing to her obnoxiously large room that partially belonged to an obnoxiously obnoxious man with an obnoxious personality and a obnoxious ability to lie and cheat. They are both so obnoxiously irratating. It made me tug on my collar again with my free hand.

"Stop, you look like you have a twitch." Annabel murmured playfully with a smile. Mallory, who was standing on her other side and could hear, snorted. On the mantel sat rows and rows of pictures. One of the two of them on a boat, kissing at sunset. Holding hands at a baseball game or cuddly with two sets of young children that I didn't reconize. Cynthia didn't have children so I assumed they were her nieces and nephews or something. There were pictures of their friends and their friends families, all smiling widely at us.

I glanced around the room, irratated at how ridculously happy they were. I counted to ten backwards in my head, like I learned in Anger Management. The more I let this all annoy me, the longer I will not be able to stay here.

"There's none of us." Mallory whispered suddenly, speaking for the first real time without being asked a question.

"Excuse me?" Lucas asked, confused.

"There's pictures. All along this mantel and you have none of your two kids." She said, glaring at him. My eyes scanned the pictures again, for the first time coming to the realization that she was right.

"I have one at work..." My father started to defend himself but Mallory cut him off, having bulit up enough steam.

"You have two kids and you don't have one picture of them in your home." She growled at him, tears watering her eyes. Annabel stroked my arm tighter, both of us growing agitation but she tried to calm me down.

"Mallory," My dad whispered but it was too late. She had slammed her wimpy appetizer plate to the floor and was pushing her way past the crowd. She was out the door before I could blink. A few surrounding people watched the scene with curious eyes. I angled myself to follow her but I knew she would be crying and I really was too wired up to comfort her just yet. Annabel could sense that. She put a hand on my chest to stop me.

"I'll go." She whispered, glancing at my father whose face was defeated. "Don't do something stupid." She growled at me with a tired expression before taking off after my sister. Tiffany just stood there, flabbergasted.

"Tiff, why don't you go after them?" I suggested, trying to control the anger in my voice. "We'll go to the drive-throw for some burgers or ice cream or something before we take you home." She nodded gratefully at me before marching out behind them. I turned to my father, fury coloring my vision red.

"I'm not going to punch, no matter how much I would like to and how much you deserve it." I told him, eyeing him intensely.

"Owen..." He began but like Mallory, I cut him off.

"Don't even start. I don't want to hear whatever shit you will come up with next. I'm sure you'll just make it up as you go along. You'll probably lie. I know you're good at it." I sneered, looking pointedly at Cynthia.

"Hey, you will not come into my house..." Lucas started to warn but I wouldn't hear of it.

"Oh yes of course. Your house." I mumbled sarcastically. "The one you bought after you were done fucking some young chick behind your wives back. That precious house full of guests to cheer on the happy selfish couple who ruined a good amount of lives with their cock-sucking pathetic shit." I growled, too angry to not continue. I wasn't shouting, just speaking in a deep, threatening and serious voice.

"I could give two shits about the fact this is your house. I could give two shits about what you want or feel you deserve in your God damn house. Because you deserve nothing. And I deserve nothing from you. Not your pity invite to a wedding that I don't care about or your stupid champagne or cocktail wraps."

"You should not talk to your father that way." Cynthia interjected, probably offended that I insulted her au devoirs.

"I have a father?" I asked with a gasp, pretending to be shocked. "Really, I didn't know that." My father had not said anything, just staring at me with a mixture of disbelief and anger. I continued in a quiet, condescending voice.

"A father wouldn't desert his family. Wouldn't run off with some whore from work while he had a wife and two kids at home. A father wouldn't leave his son to sit up with his bawling sister, trying to explain where daddy had gone. A father would have been there when his son got arrested or when his son graduated. A father would know how his daughter's first year of high school was, or the fact that his son had a girlfriend for over a year." I reminded him, staring him down as I talked as quietly and reassuring as I could.

"A father would know what his son's major was." I practically whispered at him, standing so close I could count the wrinkles on his cheeks. "A father would have pictures up at his house. But you see, Mallory and I don't have a father. So problem solved." I smirked, resisting the urge to spit in his face, and walked away, dropping my plate next to Mallory's on the floor.

My hands were shaking so bad, I could barely grip the handle to the glass door. Think happy thoughts. Something that gives you a relaxing feeling, I commanded myself as gulit also started to flood me. Just like in Anger Management.

_Annabel_.

Just think of Annabel. Our first kiss, the "_I love you's_". Think of listening to music with her in Ballad; studying with her in the campus library, her feet resting on her lap. Laughing with her, Rolly and Clarke at World of Waffles. Owen, think about our road trips, where we pack up a bunch of snacks and fill her car with a fresh tank of gas and just hit the road. We drive and drive endless stretches of busy or deserted roads. We stop at cheap diners or funky stores, just spending the day together.

Think about her hair, flowing out behind her open window as she drove during one of those road trips. Her golden hair, shimmering out behind her as she drove casually, one elbow crooked against the window to support her head while her other wrist was resting over the steering wheel. My head wasn't shaking as much as I imagined her, in her tie-dye shirt and Aviatar sunglasses as she laughed at something you'd said.

Think of how beautiful she is, the shape of her lips against yours.

As I began to think of that important picture of her, that I had snapped moments before our first kiss in the doorway at my house, my body was relaxed enough to straighten up away from the door and head out to Annabel's cheery red car, waiting for me in the street.

I turned back to look at Mallory right away when I got into the car, but she was resting against the cold window, mascara streaking her cheeks. She smiled weakly at me when I reached back and squeezed her knee in a comforting way before glancing at my girlfriend.

She was watching me, with a curious expression as she tried to read me. Her eyes softened as she met mine, smiling at me slightly. But as she cocked her head, I just shook mine. I would tell her everything lately, but I didn't want to upset my sister any longer. Her face was heart-breaking enough.

"Well, that went well huh?" Annabel smirked, shifting into drive.

"Oh, just super." I retorted, rolling my eyes at her.

"I vote we go to McDonalds and get a bunch of burgers and fries and milkshakes and stuff that's really bad for us. Junk food is better at night and in a car. I don't know why, but it's a complicated science." She teased, looking at me hopefully.

"I second that vote Bel." Mallory pipped up from the back seat and I turned back to smile at her reassuringly.

"Off you Micky D's woman!" I commanded in a Robin Hood sort-of accent, pointing my finger down the dark suburban street, all three girls laughing at me in the car. I watched Annabel out of the corner of my eye, her arm curved against the dark window and one wrist resting on the steering wheel, perfectly at ease. I closed my eyes, my head throbbing for a moment.

Just think about Annabel, Owen, I instructed myself. She alway's makes you feel better.

Most of the time, she doesn't even know it.

* * *

**I'M SORRY IT'S TAKEN SO LONG TO UPDATE. CRAZINESS HAS ENSUED AROUND ME. **

**SPRING BREAK + MY 16TH BIRTHDAY COMING UP HAS LEAD TO WILD ENERGY.  
****plus i've had writers block, but that is besides the point **

**PLEASE REVIEW! And I don't mean like "Oh that's cute. Update" review. Tell me what you really think. The good, the bad, the ugly. (preferrably the good though, cause that's just better ;) tell me the truth, but be nice. kudos to the nice people. **

**LEAVE SUGGESTIONS OR IDEAS NOT JUST FOR THIS STORY BUT FOR OTHERS! :D**

**love you tons and toodles until next time **  
**xoxox Morgan 3**


	10. That Damn Door

Hi guys! Sorry it's taken SO long to update. But here it is... I'm sorry this is so short, but I'm on summer vacation now (woohoo JUNIOR) so I will have more time to write.

_**IMPORTANT**: I know some of you will think that Owen is acting out of character, but seeing as how this story is written from Owen's point of view, I've decided to spice it up a wee bit and show a darker and more troubled side of Owen that's never healed. And some of you were asking for contreversory. Tell me what you think._

* * *

The days following the party were hard.

Not hard like tense or full of anxiety, but hard like I had to force myself to unclench my fist everyime I thought about my father.

His face, his smug smile, that tramp clinging to his arm. Never in my life have I experience such an intense time segment of anger. Yes, I am an angry person. One of the angriest. But not this type of anger.

I locked myself in my dorm room. Rolly was staying clear, only coming back at night. He could sense my issues and he knew to steer out of my path for awhile. I only left for class. Otherwise, I sat in my room. I blasted Metallica like it was going out of style. Metallica is very good anger music. I ate cereal from breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I needed to leave last night to restock on milk, Cap'n Crunch, Frosted Flakes and Fruity Pebbles. I bounced a tennis ball against a wall for hours on end. Probably annoyed the hell of out my neighbors.

And then there was the whiskey.

Rolly had a stash underneath his bed. I might have drank half a bottle today, but that's not important.

My mom called me a bunch of times but I never answered. I knew she was getting worried. But I was too mad to even think straight. I knew that if I left my room, I would do something I regretted.

And I'm tired of living with regret. So I isolated myself.

Annabel called me and texted me a bunch but I turned my phone off a few days ago. My side of the dorm looked like shit from my random outbursts when I couldn't work through the anger that erupted in me. Not even Annabel could make me feel better, thinking of her hair blowing in the window, a smirk on her pretty lips.

My dad is scum.

He can do whatever he wants to me. He can ignore me. He can only send letters on my birthday and a card on Christmas. I'm a big boy. Being arrested and going to juvie can toughen you up a wee bit. (Yeah, I'm so tough I saw things like wee bit). I don't need a father in my life. There were times when I needed one desperately, but not now. Now, I was comfortable taking care of myself. But those days when I was sitting in Myers School, practically rotting away from self-pity, a dad would have been nice.

I don't need one anyone. At least not the one whose sperm created me. Knocking up my mother doesn't make you a father.

A knock on the door ripped me from my self speech.

"Open," was all I said to the unwelcome visitor.

The door opened to Annabel. She was wearing skinny jeans and silver wrappy thingy that made her look hot. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she had on purple dangly earrings. She looked really sexy.

"Hi," she said hesitantly, her eyes taking in the mess. I just nodded at her. "How are you?" She whispered at me, trying to make eye contact. I just stared at the ceiling.

Another nod.

"I'm taking your sister shopping today," She mumbled, trying to make conversation.

Third nod. "Owen, will you please talk to me?" This time, I mixed it up. I shook my head.

"Owen, this place is disgusting. You need to get out of here. It smells." A grim smile touched my lips. I'm a dude. I often smell. I thought she was used to it by now.

"Owen, this is ridculous. Come on." She was standing next to my bed now, leaning down to touch my hand. I ripped it out of her grip before she could see the cuts I gave myself when I threw my lamp against the wall a few days ago.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" She said in a demanding whisper. I felt my bed sink as she sat next to me. I just kept looking at the ceiling as I felt her small hand touch my bare chest. I usually would melt at her touch, but I wasn't really in the mood the talk.

"Because I don't feel like saying anything. I feel like doing something," I spat back at her, avoiding her gaze.

"Something is a place holder, " she reminded me.

"I don't give a damn if it's a placeholder Annabel," I shouted, pushing her hand back and shoving past her off my bed. I still couldn't look at her.

"Why the hell are you getting mad at me? I didn't do anything. Just because your dad ...," She started retaliating but I cut her off before she could finish.

"Don't fucking talk about my dad, " I roared, pivoting by Rolly's bed to glare at her. Her eyes were wide and dark as she stared at me in disbelief.

"Either stay and make me forget,"I growled darkly as I pulled her to her feet, "Or leave." With that, I grabbed her face in between my hands and kissed her fiercely. She struggled under my grip as my moved my lips to her neck. I needed to just forget. I know I promised Annabel that we were wait until she was ready or we were ready, but I was horny now. I needed her now. I was hot and bothered and I just needed her perfect model's body.

"Owen, stop," she gasped, "Owen, you're hurting me." I loosened my grip and stepped back at her, panting. She was out of breath too.

"What's the matter with you? You taste like alcohal. Owen, talk to me. You're not acting like yourself. Are you drunk?" she begged in a breathless voice.

"Come on, Annabel," I said in a husky voice, taking a step closer to her. "I thought you loved me."

"I do love you, that's why I'm worried about you. You're not acting like the Owen I know and love. You're acting like ..." She didn't finish.

"Whatever. Just leave. I'm not in the mood to talk. And since your not in the mood to fuck, just leave." I shot at her, plopping back into bed.

She was quiet for a long time. Too long of a time. When I rolled back to look at her, to check to see if she was still here. Her beautiful bright blue eyes were clouded with tears. Her face was unreadable except for the expression of shock. She looked scared.

Shit.

Will Cash. Oh shit. Shit. Shit.

"Oh fuck. Annabel. I forgot, I'm sorry. Look ..." I began to say, swinging my legs for the bed so I could look at her better. She just held her hand up to stop me and turned towards my door.

"No, Annabel..."

"You know what, Owen? I don't really know what's going on with you," She started with her hand on the doorknob. She talked to the door, refusing to look at me. "And to be honest, it's pretty pathetic."

"Annabel, " I began to apologize.

"Save it Owen. You say it's annoying when I crawl into a shell, but you're being nothing but a filthy hyprocrite. I don't sit in my dorm room, drunk an eating Cherrios because I'm mad at my father. You don't want to fucking talk about it because you don't want to fucking think about it. If you don't want my help, I'll stop giving it. I just thought the boy who preaches about being honest and not lying looks like fucking Pinocchio. You're telling lie after lie everytime you're not telling me the truth. Which, frankly, is pretty damn ironic.

"So, sit in here wasted and soak up misery. Because I'm not giving you sympathy. Act like a man. If you hate him, fine. Just don't act like him. Because this," she said, pointing to the dirty clothes, paper, and food littering my floor, "Is just sad." She began to turn the doorknob.

"And for the record," she added, turning back to look at me. "Will Cash smelled like whiskey too, the night he raped me."

And with that, I watched her walk out my door.

I sat looking at that door for three hours. When I saw the knob turn, just to reveal Rolly coming home, I felt the biggest rush of disappointment I have ever felt in my entire life.

"Your mom called me." He mumbled, not looking at me as he grabbed his backpack and began filling it with clothes. "She's freaking out that you won't talk to her. Mallory told her something happened at your dad's party and Mall was pretty shook up about it. So I'm guessing that's why your upset, but at least call your mother back, man. "

"Me and Clarke are going to visit her parents this weekend. I'll see you Monday." Was it Friday already? Had it been almost a week?

He had shoved most of his stuff into his bag and was headed out the door before he stopped. "I saw Annabel at her work today," Annabel worked as a waitress at a sports bar/pizzeria during the year and only at Ballad's during the summer.

"She seemed pretty distracted and I have a feeling it was because of you. You're my best friend, but I love Annabel like a sister. So whatever you did, fix it."

Was I going to lose everyone out of that damn door?


	11. Dance So Good

**I'M SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG TO UPLOAD. I WILL TRY MY HARDEST TO UPLOAD. YOU GUYS WANTED DRAMA SO I GAVE YOU DRAMA IN THE LAST CHAPTER, BUT I CAN'T HAVE THEM FIGHTING TOO LONG, CAN I? NO! I JUST READ ALL OF YOUR REVIEWS BECAUSE I JUST CAME BACK FROM AN AMAZING TRIP IN EUROPE, SO I WILL HAVE MORE TIME TO UPDATE. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. IT MAKES ME ALL WARM AND FUZZY ON THE INSIDE. GIVE ME DETAILS. WHAT YOU LIKE, WHAT YOU DON'T. INSTEAD OF "UPDATE. SO CUTE" I APPRECIATE THOSE, I DO. BUT I DON'T GET ANY WRITERS FEEDBACK. **

**LOVE YOU ALL. THANKS YOU TONS. **

* * *

_**Annabel Greene went from "In a relationship" to "In a complicated relationship" with Owen Armstrong. **_

To say that I am going crazy would be the understatement of the century.

Three weeks.

That's how long it's been since I've talked to Annabel.

Twenty one long days of silence.

And silence is what kills me, right?

Some people say that silence is golden. Those people are idiots. Those people obviously never tramatized their girlfriends. Those people didn't have their heart ripped out of their chest at the tears _YOU_ put in her eyes. Whatever fuck tard said that never say the looks of disappoint in their mother's eyes from the sugar-coated series of events. They didn't hear the screeches from their sister or the upset shakes of the head from their friends.

Those people aren't in hell. Population: Me.

I threw out every bottle of liquor we had in our dorm room. Rolly wasn't very happy about that, but when I washed all of his clothes and made the room stop smelling like a barn, he forgave me.

I've tried phone calls. Visits to her dorm. Letters in her mail box. Facebook. E-mails. Visits to her work. I brought her her favorite coffee from Starbucks (Caramel Macchiatio) and a blueberry muffin, which she loves to enjoy during her study sessions.

But all of those plans failed.

Why?

_Clarke. _

Clarke has become her bodyguard. Shooing me when I go to her dorm. Telling me to leave while I approach her at the library. Nothing. Annabel doesn't look up from her book. It's not like a "cold-shoulder" feeling, but more like Clarke isn't l_etting_ her talk to me.

This has been bothering me for weeks. I'm doing horrible in my classes, my mom and sister are incredibly mad at me, Rolly is still in his disappointed silence stage and I haven't heard Annabel's voice in weeks.

I've been trying to think of a solution, but nothing is working. I've been racking my brains. But to see that? On the computer?

She doesn't have the balls to face me but she'll send my subtle messages over Facebook? She hasn't broken up with me, that's a good sign. But these past three weeks have just been one bad sign gumbled all together.

I'm sitting here groveling, but I am struck with a memory.

_"What's your favorite movie scene?" I asked Annabel as we lounged with our feet in her pool the day before we left for college. _

_"The boombox scene from Say Anything. If I'm ever mad at you, stand outside my window with our song. Instant forgiveness." _

She had said it as a joke at the time, cheeking off as she nudged me and I threatened to push her in the water. But now. ...

I almost dislocated my kneecap as I flew around my room, digging with all my might through my CD's to find the CD of Wakey Wakey, the CD we danced to at Ballad the night I told her that I loved her.

I didn't have an obnoxious boombox, but I knew who did. I stormed out of my dorm room and down the hall to Eli's room. Eli was a good buddy of mine from my business class, and I knew he had a stupid boom box I could hold over my head.

His girlfriend Auden answered the door as I banged on it rather rudely. I blushed slightly at the annoyance I must cause. Auden was a pretty girl that I had only met once or twice, since she goes to some fancy really smart school. We've double dated.

"Oh, hi Owen," She says with a smirk.

"Hi Auden, how've you been?" I ask, even if I don't really care. My impatience must be evident.

"Fine. Eli's not here," She tells me right away. Damn, she is smart.

"Shit," I breath. "Do you think he would mind if I borrowed his stereo?"

She looked at me curiously, before looking back into the room where his stereo sat on the floor in his closet.

"I don't think so. He never uses it anyways. Just bring it back, I guess." Auden steps aside, letting me inside the dorm room. I grab it quickly.

"Tell Annabel I say hi. After you get her back, of course," Auden smirks, and I don't even ask how she knew. I have to smile just a wee bit as I yell a thanks before bolting down the stairs and running across campus to her hall. You can't get inside unless you swip you I.D card that says it's your hall, but I don't need it. I ignore the door completely as I run around the side, and spend a few minutes judging which room is her and Clarkes.

I make a guess.

The music starts playing and I am still out of breath from sprinting with a twenty pound stereo. But I luge that on my head anyway.

I know she's home because it's Wednesday night. Wednesday is her day off from the pizzeria. She goes to Starbucks where Clarke works (thank God) and goes home to study, usually for her Ethics class Thursdays.

People looked out their windows as they heard it and I watched for her shadow, until I saw it opening her already cracked window furthur. I smiled to myself, staring up at her beautiful face as it came into view, glowing in the afternoon sun.

Her hair was in a messy ponytail and she was wearing an old football jersey of mine. She smiled softly at me before breaking out into a soppy/teary grin.

"You remembered," She mouthed down to me from my second story window. I grinned and nodded, trying to ignore the lifting of weight from my shoulders, which were starting to ache a little from the stereo.

Girls were squealing in their dorm rooms and guys were looking out their windows. I saw a few video cameras and at first I wanted to hide, but I HAD to do this.

Annabel watched me with teary eyes until the song ended. I lowered the boombox but she had already disappeared from the window.

My heart sank.

No, no no no no. Was it over for us now? Did I ruin it? I thought she liked it, I mean she was smiling and she seemed happy I remembered. ...

My fretting was cut short, but a wave of blonde hair that swept through my line of vision as she came running out the front door of her buliding.

I barely had time to register the smile on her face and almost dropped Eli's stereo before she was in my arms.

"I'm so sorry," I choked out, hugging her so tightly I'm surprised she didn't gasp in pain. I loosened my grip just a bit so I wouldn't pop her organs . Wet tears of hers ran down my neck.

"I'm so sorry Annabel. I never wanted to hurt you, I was mad at my dad and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm not like that, I'm sorry I shut you out. I feel like shit." Her arms tugged tighter on my waist and she buried her face in my chest, letting out a happy sob.

"God, I've missed you," I breathed, inhaling her beautiful scent.

"I've missed you too," She murmured, pulling back and grasping my hair between her slim fingers. She brought her lips to mine and a round of applause broke out from the watching citizens of her dorm.

* * *

I love how Sarah Dessen ties in all of her other characters from her other books, so I tried to do that. Like with Auden and Eli from "Along for the Ride" or how Wes and Macy from "Truth about Forever" were briefly mentioned in the chapter of the cocktail/engagement party from hell. I'm going to try and keep doing that.

let me know if you like it :)


	12. A Wedding and My Funeral

I was waiting at the coffee kiosk bright and early the next morning. I had a coffee, black but then filled to the rim with skim milk waiting in my hand for her when she rounded the corner, already digging for change at the bottom of her purse.

She didn't see me, her head was still buried in her bag. She was wearing tall boots and dark jeans. Her plaid coat looked tight on her and she looked adorable with her blonde hair wavy and tucked behind a white beany.

Last night, we didn't really talk. After kissing in front of her residence hall for a few minutes, we went inside her room, layed down on her bed, curling around each other and fell asleep.

When I woke up, she was bustling around me, getting ready and packing her bag.

"Whazzgoinon?" I groaned, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.

"I have to go to work. I forgot about my shift at eight. I'm late," She had explained, without looking at me, tugging on her shoe and then smoothing her hair back into a ponytail.

"Bye," she simply breathed, kissing my forehead and running out of her dorm without a backwards glance.

"Stop," I instructed firmly this morning as she was about to walk straight into the garbage can.

She looked up spastically before smiling slightly at me. "I don't remember that being there."

"You learn something new everyday," I smiled at her, and handed her the to-go cup.

"Thanks," she mumbled, lowering her purse on her shoulder and taking the cup. She didn't really look me the eye, turning the cup in her hand like she was reading it. Like she hasn't seen one of these cups a thousand times.

"So, I was thinking that maybe we could go on a road-trip this weekend," I told her as we eased into a familiarity of walking towards the library. A tradition I've missed. It had only been twenty-four hours since our reconcilliation, but things were starting to go back to normal.

Or so I _thought. _

"I can't, sorry. I'm going home for the weekend," She told me, brightly covered leaves crunching underneath her boots as we strolled the cobble-stoned campus towards the library.

"Oh," I couldn't think of a better response. "Need a ride?"

"No, thanks," She mumbled just as lamely as my question.

"Oh." I'm really a_ witty _conversationalist, right?

"I was really hoping to hang out with you, since I haven't seen you in so long," I told her, reaching over to grab her hobo-gloved hand in mine. The November air was bitterly cold.

"I'm sorry. Kirsten needs me to go to the final fitting for my dress," she reminded me, stepping a step furthur away from me so that our arms were really far apart, our hands, however, still connected. It was just an awkward position.

"Oh, are you excited for the wedding? Two weeks, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Still need a date?" I urged, knocking my hip with hers and trying to be spunky.

"Well, yeah." She told me, looking at me quizzically.

"Is everything okay, Annabel? Please tell me the truth," I finally begged, tugging her to a stop at the foot of the large stairs of the library.

"Yeah, I just have a ton of studying to do," she said, like I was dumb and it was the most obvious solution in the world.

"Okay," I told her, knowing she wouldn't lie but not sure if she was 100 % sure herself.

And with that, I followed her into the library .

The past two weeks have passed around in a awkward whirlwind. I barely saw Annabel. I knew that she had to plan things for Kirsten's wedding, since she was one of the maids of honor. And she was taking extra shifts at the pizzeria to pay for the dress. And she had taken on an extra class while we were "separated" so she was positively swamped with course work. Her homework hours were insane and she started to making coffee in her room to save money.

She was avoiding me, it was obvious.

Everything I tried to ask her about it, she found it skillfully easy to change the subject. She always had a breezy air to her, like she was forcing herself into an forcing, that's the wrong word. It was more like she was showing me one side, while internally she was a different side of everything she was thinking. I don't think she lied to me, just isn't telling me the whole truth.

She is editing.

But, today was the day of her older sister's wedding and I know how Annabel is to all things romantic. She practically turns into pudding. Elderly couples holding hands made her giggle. She loved seeing men buying flowers and always cried during romantic movies, especially Titanic. Weddings were like Christmas' to her.

Myself, Rolly and Clarke were all invited since we had all gotten close since the whole "rape debate" trial and Kirsten wanted us there, almost as a thank you for standing by her little sister. So, I adjusted my tie in the mirror once more, grimacing.

"Dude, chill," Rolly mumbled, trying to comb back his hair.

"I look like Godzilla," I told him, turning around so he could see me in my navy suit. I wore a light blue shirt and a blue and red striped tie.

I despise dress clothes.

I always feel out of place and fidgety. I always felt hugely tall and out of place next to less big-boned men with smaller muscles. I felt constricted in a suit.

"How on hell's Earth do you look like Godzilla?" Rolly asked, shoving his wallet and his car keys in his pocket. "The shirt isn't even green."

"I don't know," I said lamely. "I just feel ... " I moved around, making stiff arm movements like Godzilla. Rolly burst out laughing and slapped a hand on my shoulder.

"Good to have you back," he chuckled, heading for the door.

It wasn't that much later that Rolly, Clarke in a pretty yellow dress and I were sitting in one of the back pews of Mercy's Christian Church. A piano was playing softly in the background and suddenly, a set of two people that I didn't know were walking down the aisle, probably Brian's parents. They were followed by Annabel's mother, looking pretty and like Annabel in a creamy pink dress.

A little girl wearing a sky blue puffy tutu-resembling dress came out next, tossing white rose petals at audience members. I bursted out laughing as someone, her grandmother probably stood up at the front of the aisle, rushing her forwards. She had golden blonde hair and was wearing a fancy sort of flowered tiara on her head. Clarke made an "awwww"-ing noise next to me.

Bridesmaids and groomsmen started filling out after them. The men were wearing black tux's with a white shirt and a white tie. The girls, as they started strolling out to the gentle piano, were wearing dresses that began at dark blue and were all different shades.

The only person I recognized was Annabel's cousin Kyle, who walked out second. By the time Whitney walked out, looking healthy in a sea blue dress, I knew Annabel was coming next.

Her long, beautiful hair was curly and loose, swept off to cover her right shoulder. She was on the arm of Brian's brother, Matt, and was smiling. Her dress was a beautiful shade of light blue, was strapless and floated to just above her knee . My heart stopped.

She smiled gently at us as we followed her eyes past us. Clarke "aww'd" and Rolly did a quiet wolf-whistle, which caused us to all break out into chuckles.

The wedding was lengthly but not entirely boring. Annabel looked gorgeous, smiling at her sister in joy as she married the man she loved. The resemblance between the three Greene sisters was truely astounding. It wasn't hard for my imagination to swap Kirsten and Annabel's places and imagine it as our wedding.

The room erupted into cheers as the couple kissing, Brian plucking a glowing Kirsten up into his arms as Annabel and Whitney waved their arms and flowers around happily. It was about fifteen minutes later, after taking pictures and such, that Annabel finally came out of the church after the happy couple had exited the church to a series of bubbles and sparklers. We were all headed to the Hyatt on the Water, by the marina.

"Hey, that was beautiful," Clarke giggled, hugging Annabel as she came over to our posse.

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" She smiled.

"You look beautiful," I added, reaching out to grab my hand. She squeezed my fingers for a moment before letting go to fix her strapless dress.

She was avoiding my eye contact. Not looking at me when she talked, fidgeting.

She hadn't forgiven me yet.


End file.
